Five Poems by Darren Lynch

ASTRAL HOLDINGS

 

Lipid on water ,

 

The old headway lurks ,

Starry on the water ,

 

As the absent creatures still ,

Dance freely

To the water of they knew

 

Disguises of the gala due roam

To friends of revered holdings

Of questions upon this ground

 

Dig, for you to ever holdings

Upon beggars sand ,

Drown to the merry

Uptakens imbibe

You to inhale surface ,

 

For to the rest

Of the astral strange

Upon the land…..

 

 

WORDS ,

 

From the corner of tears ,

Sell Fame ,

 

Wandering to the abiding illusion

He drank two beers

 

The first unknown

The second a friend…

 

 

Violet Mirrors

 

There was a blue calm

Consummating roar

That stood drunkard in regulations,

Silent processions

That rang in fine orders

Of offshore repast

Heralded to the quaint aberrant of glass

Fresh holds ,

In good counsel

Novel friend

Versed on the edge of seats

To the placement of each cobblestone

In evident worn patent leather

Clouded ,

Unmatched attires of silk to night

Entrapped to the plethora sounds

Locution gave spread a violet grasp

A fragrance span continuous ,

As sight gave drift

Leading reveries flew

A myriad touch to joy

In a resistive morrow grin ,

 

So to dance

A cite of evocation

In fugitive passion

As sits weather to sleep

 (so long)

Unknowing ,

Render grips

In a mysterious union

Before the mirror

Dressed to the white

Of a swerving celibate.

 

 

Beyond

 

Edge of the forest

Lye the rays

Wilderness to limits

So shall light claim ,

 

Stomachs of swollen memory ,

 

Halls ,

            Ground ,

                            Echoes

Falling away

Sure less the eyes of fresh sleep

Wise never in thy sense

Less temper flailing

Drenched a mocking green

Silent ,

How outward of mind sounds

Centred to the waiting of timely sway

For what creators

Would give ,

Vowing ,

To witness such reaching rays

If words should grant

Allow softly venture

Breath forthwith

Of what beyond

Lies the claim.

    

 

An Artist

 

Poetry finds rhythm in the hearts of lost men

Loosely kissed in metaphor

Called a labyrinth of dreams

The call of ever wished sleep

To wake streamed in suffer

As the cold ink strides in fusion

Wilting ground

Witness the imagery glisten too abode

In open gates of lucid movement

An odyssey released of a place known birth

Gently hitherto we call sadness away

A  warmth in guided shadow

For as in the sun simple laughter to evoke

A soothing frail in swilled caressed blinking light

Fantasy on life to the desert leaves

Tension rising formidable in the ripple of want seas

As the midnight turns glistening promise to find moon in idle eyes

All tomorrow we too simply find

Words mend the name called life.

By Darren Lynch, Dublin, Ireland